


Can Primal Beasts Catch an Illness? Apparently So

by acatone



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Belial is a slut and is pedalling 17895739 relationships, Canon Temporary Character Death, Crack Treated Seriously, Crack and Angst, Hanahaki AU, Hanahaki Disease, Hanahaki as an STD, Light Sadism, M/M, Multi, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Pre-000, because i'm a genius like that, belial-centric - Freeform, is it serial murder if he kills people by spreading an STD?, journey to insanity, kind of a character study?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acatone/pseuds/acatone
Summary: "Well fuck.Now he knows why that girl he slept with smelled so strongly of spring flowers and tasted like blood when he kissed her. Turns out it wasn't some shitty perfume, and she didn't have gingivitis. Fucking hell."(A half crack, half angst hanahaki AU featuring Belial sleeping with someone different every night while pining for faa-san that i wrote in a fever dream because i can't get the idea of Hanahaki AU as an STD out of my head)





	Can Primal Beasts Catch an Illness? Apparently So

_Well fuck._

Now he knows why that girl he slept with smelled so strongly of spring flowers and tasted like blood when he kissed her. Turns out it wasn't some shitty perfume, and she didn't have gingivitis. _Fucking hell._

Belial had woken up this morning, to an empty bed. Well, that, and an odd scratchy feeling on his throat, urging him to cough. Looking at his now bloodstained hands, he found himself a little surprised. _How curious,_ _can primal beasts catch an illness?_ Supposedly not, but then how would one explain the blood that came in a fit of coughs? He quickly got up, his body felt as light as ever, no sign of physical weakness whatsoever. But the itch in his throat stays. He went to rinse his hands, a stray petal on the floor catching his eyes. He looked around and did not find her. He thought of their encounter last night, remembered of the light patch on her finger that indicated that she was married, and was cheating on her husband with him _as revenge_. He briefly wondered if she got caught in a pinch and cracked a small, disturbing smile. His mind wanders for a second, to the man who owns heart, his _messiah_. Surely he wouldn’t mind if he slept around did he? If only he would wak-

_Cough, cough_

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain on his chest, and an itch on his throat. He coughed. Blood again, but there was something else decorating the red on his hands. A single spot of mauve on his palm, covered almost entirely by blood. He gingerly picked it up, diluting the blood from it with water from the tap. A petal?

Not the same from the one on the floor, and pretty sure last night’s play did not involve flowers. Well it did…. But not literal flowers, mind you. Just the figurative one where he got his fill of physical contact. There were no flowers in the bedroom. The front yard hasn’t been taken care of and only holds common weeds. Where then, did this petal come from?

He looked at the little thing between his fingers. Small, and delicate. Belial crushed it with his hands and it does not resist. _Interesting_ , but now isn’t the time to wonder. He picked up his clothes, laid haphazardly on the floor and made himself presentable. He had to be presentable. He had a task to complete and a mask to wear.

With a smirk on his face, he strode away nonchalantly.

 

And yet, a few hours later he was kneeling pathetically besides his _messiah,_ or at least part of him. Around them were bloodstained petals, and documents he was supposed to look at and later destroy. He knelt besides the decapitated head that he had placed on a pedestal. Belial used his hands to cover the sardonic smile on his face. His chest hurts. It hurts a lot. It has always hurt, but now that pain had turned physical.

Yes. He knows now, Primal Beasts _can_ in fact get sick. He lazily ran his bloodied hands on the _messiah’s_ cold cheeks, leaving a trail of red in its wake. He felt filthy. No, he _is_ filthy. Imperfect, useless and filthy, nothing like that _beautiful, wonderful, and perfect_ Supreme Primarch, Lucifer.

_Cough, cough, cough._

He coughed again, and again.

Man, he had to hold those coughs for the two long hours he had to deal with that Astral, Bubs. It was a pain to keep it all in. They were working together, yes. But Belial had his own plans, and he knows that Bubs did as well. He must not show any weakness in front of that Astral, or anyone, really. Anyone but him. Anyone but Faa-san.

He smirks. _Look, vulnerable and exposed. Sick with love, consumed by lust_ . _Can’t you see? These flowers are for you._ He knows. He knows that _he_ knows, but it doesn't matter. Belial had never shied from showing his ~~weakness~~ , his affections towards him, of course he knew. The question was; did he care? No. Absolutely not. Belial understood this clearly, of course. He understood that the brilliant man who created him saw emotions as a hindrance, especially if it gets in the way of work. Going as far as to create limiters for later generations of primal beasts. He really wasn't surprised. It was lucky Lucifer was good at hiding the contents of his heart, and Belial’s emotions only helped him with his plans.

He picked up one of the flowers that was intact from his coughing fit and twirled it lazily between this thumb and middle finger.

_Mauve,_

_Malva_.

_Mallow._

**_Consumed by love_ ** **.** _That was the meanings which mortals has attached to this flower, did you know?_

He slipped the delicate, bloodstained flower on Lucilius’ ear. He did so with a grin on his face. He planted a quick kiss on his cheek before recomposing himself and setting out again.

 

He slept with a young man that night, tender and naive. Shy, uninformed whispers of ‘I love you’s have left his mouth after their first few encounters. Belial wonders if he too, will cough flowers like him? Fortunately, the young man was mortal. The emptiness, the pain in his chest will not last.

Lucky for him.

For Belial, the pain would be eternal.

Still, Belial looks forward to crushing this delicate flower with his hands. Watch the horror on his face when he realizes that the man before him never loved him back. He ran his fingers through the hair of the young man, currently asleep. Belial let out a soft, yet terrifying chuckle.

He wonders what flower would leave those delicate lips.

\---

He watched as the young man in front of him hacked out a lung. Well, that, as well as a bunch of flowers.

_Amaranthus caudatus._

Tassel flower,

Pendant Amaranth.

_Love lies bleeding._

**_Hopelessness_ ** **,** That was the meaning mortals attached to this flower, and perhaps they were right. He could see that very same hopelessness in his eyes. A thousand questions consisting of _Who? Why? How?_ The eternal questioning, the eternal pining. He simply laughs at the pathetic display. The red of the flowers blended well with the red of his blood.

\---

Blue roses left his next lover’s mouth. **_Impossible love_ ** . Yes, Impossible indeed, for he loved another long before they met. But she had known, and she had seen it coming. But still the tears fell from her eyes when she said she didn’t regret it. He almost felt a brief moment of empathy, and stroked her hair. His love was too, _impossible_. He wonders if Astrals could feel love at all. He wonders if other primarchs could feel love. Was he a mistake?

 _Cough, cough, cough_.

Red and mauve dripping from his own lips and his lover watched with disbelief as he smiled through it. Her eyes softened but no words were said.

\---

Desire, Passion, **_Hatred_ **.  His next lover lunged at him. Petals of the tiger lily fluttering at every word, swallowing the sounds of their hatred and anger, unable to reach Belial’s uncaring ears. His everlasting smile plastered on his face. Was this his fifth lover to succumb?

_Anemone, Asphodel, Columbine._

**_Forsaken, Regretful, Deceived._ **

He started remembering them based on which flowers they died under

 

_Lavender, Marigold, Morning Glory_

**_Devotion, Grief, Love in vain._ **

He gave them the pain he felt, and watched as love destroyed them from inside out. He watched the mortals seek out each other in a forever unrequited chain of love, like a garden that sowed itself

He watched as flowers left their lips, as they succumbed to the pain of loving someone who would never love them back. And he took absolute pleasure, crushing these flowers under his fingers. Like the first time, they didn't resist. Oblivious to the dangers, naive, pure, delicate. These mortals unaware of the danger that lurks.

Why would he do something like this? for pure sadistic pleasure? or because seeing someone succumb to the very thing that drives him mad gives him a sense of superiority? A sense of power? Belial himself wonders, but not for long. Why bother with these things? As long as it gives him pleasure, he doesn't care about the _why_ 's.

Indeed, he took pleasure in watching them, but that does not mean it eases the pain. No, he still finds himself keeling over, forcing out the flowers from throat. It hurts, it hurts so much. It hurts enough that he would find stray tears riddling his vision in an empty room that holds nothing but him and his Messiah. Still, he would find himself laughing. It hurts. It hurts but it also feels _so good_. Laughter in reaction to pain, the line between joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure blurred into nothingness. Eros and agape mixed into a perfect blend of obsession. The flowers blooming in his lungs sing in harmony to the beat of his heart that beats only for Him. His Creator, his Messiah, his love.

 

Yes, love hurts.

_But it hurts so good._

 

Love is a both a blessing and a curse. A cacophonous chorus of pain and pleasure and he's willing to take all of it. The flowers he coughed out, he will take and weave them into a wreath for him.

A thornless crown for his beloved, even if he will never see it.

**Author's Note:**

> i was binging on JJBA at 3 AM and my mind wasnt in the right place im so sorry.
> 
> also.... is it serial murder if he kills people by spreading an STD.... ?


End file.
